The Big Bad Wolf
by cautiouslycanine
Summary: When Stiles beings seeing a giant wolf in the woods, naturally, he prepares himself to die an untimely death. When he comes out of the situation unharmed, he thinks there may be more to this story than he thought. Not to mention that his best friend is growing out some freaky sideburns and howling at the moon.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles is running late, of course he is, his alarm doesn't go off the one day he actually needed to be somewhere. He'd promised to go over to Ms. Winnifred White's house for lunch. He'd pick up her groceries on the way, it was freezing and honestly the last thing he wanted was her driving in that weather, or slipping on ice. Winnifred had been like a grandmother to him since the moment he was born, she's an old family friend and had only recently moved further away from the town into a smaller house. She said there was no use cleaning a whole big house that only she lived in anymore, and Stiles had promptly offered to help her with any errands or chores she needed done.  
He picks his ass out of bed and doesn't bother to make himself anything to eat, he grabs the keys to his jeep and drives to the grocery store, he makes a point to go in and grab the already prepared bags and not talk to anybody. He runs back to the jeep and starts the engine, cursing himself the entire way, she's going to be so disappointed he was late.

Stiles remembered when he was almost six years old, he'd insisted on helping her bake the pie for Christmas and he'd nearly burnt his hand off sticking it into the oven before she'd grabbed him and scolded him lightly for it. His dad was always fond of her, but she was really close with Stiles' mom, which is part of the reason he refused to let her out of his life. So much of his mom was there, in pictures she had and memories about when not only he was young, but when his parents were dating. He smiles to himself, she feels like a grandparent, which is something he hasn't had for a long time. He likes spending time with her, she's old and sweet and her house has unnecessary doilies everywhere but he doesn't mind because he think's it's cute. She still bakes him cookies and pinches his cheeks and he doesn't really think he'll ever have the heart to tell her he;s basically grown up and she doesn't have to anymore.  
He pulls down to her street which is...blocked off. She lives about a mile after infrequent trees lining the road become a full blown forest, Stiles sighs and turns off the main road. It's bumpy, but he can do this, at least he thinks he can until his jeep slides on the ice and he slams on the breaks.

"Nope, no, no." he mutters to himself, shaking his head and taking the keys out of the ignition. His car will be fine there until he gets back and if someone else pulls up, well, then they'll have to deal and thank Stiles later for inadvertently saving their lives from killer ice patches. He grabs the groceries in their canvas bags out of the back seat, slings the straps over each of his shoulders and begins walking. It 's marginally more difficult that he would've liked, trying to avoid the ice patches, but he keeps himself motiviated by chanting 'don't break the eggs, she'll fucking kill you if you break the eggs' and that's probably totally true. Stiles sees his breath in front of his face as he huffs, and is suddenly very aware that the only outward layer of protection against the cold he's wearing is his red hoodie. He pauses for a moment and pulls up the hood, making sure it covers his ears before he continues on. He curses under his breath, he's pretty sure it's not even supposed to be this cold, every news station is saying it's the coldest it's been in like, ever, and everyone's kinda freaked out about it.

Occasionally, he'll look around into the forest, though the thick winter fog prevents him from seeing very far. He feels tense, and he doesn't like it. It's that feeling of tightness you get in your chest, usually accompanied by the need to get the fuck out of wherever you currently are. He tries to school his breathing and quicken his pace but all hope of moving, like, at all, is cut short when he hears a low growl emanating from the woods. Oh, jesus. He turns, and why the hell would he want to see the thing that was going to kill him, and faces the woods. Two glowing red dots stand out from the fog, from the rest of a giant, hulking shape almost obscured into the treeline. It's still, absolutely still, staring at Stiles as Stiles stares back.

"oh, shit." he whispers because he's going to die, he is, he's going to die and Winnie's never going to get her groceries and there'll be dead bloody parts of him strewn around the woods and he'll break the eggs. He wants to run, everything in him is telling him to run but all he can do is look at this...thing. And then it takes off, in one giant bound it's further into the forest and Stiles has no intention of hanging around. He runs as fast as he can, jumping over the ice he can see, until he's rapping hurriedly on Winnie's back door, trying desperately to catch his breath. In less than a minute the door was wrenched open and Winnie was staring back at him, ushering him into the house.

"Look at you," she tuts, "you're shivering and your eyes, my dear, your eyes are so large. You look like you've seen a ghost." Stiles swallows nervously,  
"No, not a ghost," he shakes his head and takes a breath, blinking,  
"it was uh...I think it was a wolf."

* * *

**Please review! I'd love hearing what you thought about this. **

**Also, if anyone's interested in Beta-ing this I would be so grateful! **


	2. Chapter 2

He takes the main road back to his car.

"Dad I'm serious, I saw something in the woods." Stiles says, because he is not crazy and there was

definitely something freaky running around out there. Right near Winnie's house.

"Stiles, there aren't any wolves in California." his dad tells him, sounding exasperated,

"Yeah, and it also hasn't been this cold in like, a hundred years apparently," he nearly shouts, desperate

to get his dad to listen. "I'm telling you, it was huge, it ran on all fours like a dog, dad, I'm not seeing

things." his dad sighs, sitting down across from him at the table and pushing a bowl of pasta towards him.

"Fine," he relents, "I'll look into it, Stiles, but if nobody else has filed reports there's nothing I can do about

it." Stiles nods, because at least his dad believes him...kind of. He totally plans on telling Scott, though,

Scott will definitely believe him.

xxxxxx

So there aren't any wolves in California. There hasn't been in over 60 years and Stiles is imagining things.

There is, however, a dead body. And in Stiles' book that trumps imaginary giant wolves any day. So he

goes to Scott's house, and drags him away.

"Stiles," Scott wheezes as they're trudging through the woods in the general area that he'd heard his

dad's deputy mention, "Do you even know where it is?"

"Yes," Stiles deadpans, "that's why we've been out here for a freakin' hour looking, y'know I even had a

map showing-" he cuts off with a snicker when Scott thumps him on the back of the head. They continue

walking until there's a sudden chill down his spine that makes him stop in his tracks. There's a low

rumbling, almost vibrating sound and his heart thuds in his chest.

"Did you hear that?" he whispers to Scott, who's frozen by his side. He swears he heard the growl again,

a low rumble that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Scott just shakes his head,

"Hear what?" he asks, and then stops because there's definitely something. They hear twigs snapping

and then there are deer, running at top speed straight at them, loping around and jumping. Stiles shouts

and jumps back, landing on his ass as his hands come up to cover his head. When the thunderous noise is

gone and Stiles can't hear any more coming, he uncurls himself and looks up.

Scott's gone. Like, really, really gone. Stiles stands up instantly.

"Scott!" he screams, completely aware that he's giving himself away to anything and everything lurking

around in the dark. He moves forward on instinct, looking around for anything that could lead him to Scott,

a shoe, his inhaler, anything.

"Scott!" he yells again, starting to panic because Scott is not answering. And then he hears it, the low

growl. His breath is caught in his throat and he closes his eyes tight when he hears a sniff from directly

behind him. He doesn't move. There's a pressure on his neck and he hopes to god it isn't teeth. There's a

snuffling noise and Stiles doesn't want to turn around, he really doesn't, but his body doesn't seem to

agree because before he can stop himself he's whirling around to face the wolf. His heart is thundering in

his chest and the wolf looks almost surprised, but it's not eating him yet so he considers it a victory. It

brings it's head down minutely and sniffs at him again before making a low whining sound in it's throat

and...nudging him. Talk about surreal. The wolf nudges at him again and almost kind of yips and Stiles is

gone. He calls Scott's name all the way back to the jeep, where the bastard is leaning against it with a

sweaty grimace.

"Stiles, we need to go." he says, his voice sounding rough and strained. And though he kind of wants to

slap Scott for leaving him, Stiles couldn't agree more.

Once they're in the safety of the jeep, Stiles immediately wants to start talking, to fill the silence, to

distract himself, to tell Scott everything, he hasn't decided yet, but his voice is choked off when he sees

Scott. He's leaning against the window, his arm draped around his middle, his hair is stuck to his forehead

with sweat.

"Dude...Scott, are you okay?" Scott shakes his head, wincing

"I have to go home," he insists and Stiles drives. He allows the silence just until it gets to be too much,

until he feels like if he doesn't fill it with something he might start crying.

"I wonder what those deer were running from, I mean, there were like thirty of them." he shakes his

head, "they could've been running from the wolf-"

"There aren't any wolves in California." Scott butts in and Stiles groans,

"Uh yes, there are, and apparently they're the size of horses, Scott, I saw it tonight. It came right up and

sniffed me." Scott turns his head to level Stiles with a look that clearly says you're crazy.

"what the hell are you talking about?" Scott asks, staring blankly at Stiles,

"I told you about what happened on the way to Winnie's, dude!" he cries, "C'mon, man, if I can't trust you

to believe me, then I might as well just go check myself into a funny farm."

"I don't know, giant wolves sounds a bit too..."

"Too what?" Stiles asks sharply, preparing himself to be offended, because Scott's really good at doing that.

"Fairytale?" Scott shrugs and Stiles whips his head around to gawk at him,

"Really?" Stiles says, his voice rising an octave "cause I was thinking more along the lines of nightmarish.

The Hound of Baskerville, Cujo, The Grim from Harry- okay, you know what, I saw a giant wolf and you

have to believe me because you're my best friend." Stiles says and Scott's quiet for a moment.

"Cujo wasn't really a wo-" Scott begins and Stiles immediately cuts him off,

"SCOTT."

Stiles peeks over and a weight is lifted off his chest. Scott doesn't look like he's going to throw up anymore

and his hand is no longer clutched around his middle.

They get back to Scott's house and Stiles walks him up to his door.

"Are you okay?" he asks, cause Scott really did look like shit earlier "I mean, you looked pretty bad, should

we have gone to the hospital?" . Scott frowns, but shakes his head.

"Yeah, it's weird, I mean...I swore something bit me earlier." Stiles' eyes go wide,

"Bit you? Dude! Where? You could have rabies or something oh my god-" he's rambling and Scott's moving

his hoodie back to reveal a big, wet patch of blood on his side. "Oh dear god," Stiles whispers as Scott

pulls up his shirt to reveal...nothing.

There's nothing there. Not a scratch. Certainly nothing that would suggest a furry little beast had sunk it's

teeth into him. Scott looks up, visibly confused, and also a bit terrified.

"Maybe it's not your blood?" Stiles offers weakly, because they both know that's total bullshit and that's

totally Scott's blood.

"No, it's mine. There were bite marks on me earlier, I swear." he says, looking back down to his side, "they were huge, too."

"Okay." Stiles nods, because he's trying to sound calm. "Well, now there aren't. I mean, isn't that good?

You aren't dying." Scott nods like Stiles has just given him a complete, scientific, plausible explanation for

why there's a ton of blood and no wound. "I...I should stay over tonight." Stiles says and Scott nods again.

"Yeah, yeah you should."


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles knows this is a bad idea, it's probably the worst idea he's ever had and really, he's had a lot of bad ideas. Like, monumentally horrible ideas, but this one definitely takes the cake, because he's going into the woods again. Alone. With a huge ass wolf that could probably rip him apart with one tooth on the prowl. But Stiles has always been the curious type and he just cannot leave this alone.

It's unfortunate, really, that he's going to die so young, but it's for a good cause. Maybe he'll get some damn answers, maybe a mountain man will come crawling out of the side of the hills and apologize for letting his fucking horse sized dog rampage around the woods. So he drives to the edge of Winnie's street again because why not? It's not like he knows where the thing lives, though he assumes it's somewhere dark and damp and cave-like.

Stiles finds himself suitably lost after twenty minutes trekking aimlessly through the forest. And suddenly it hits him that yeah, this was the worst idea ever. If wolfy decides not to show he's shit out of luck, and probably going to be a mountain lion snack. Though...when he started thinking finding giant wolves was _lucky_ he had no idea. So, after giving up on thinking that the thing was just going to find him, he starts yelling.

"HEY!" He yells, cupping his hands around his mouth in a way he hopes amplifies his voice. "WOLF...THING, I'M TRYING TO FIND YOU!" he drops his hands and waits, after a couple of minutes of absolutely nothing, he decides to start walking again. Somehow he doesn't think he's venturing towards his car because the trees are getting denser and the light is getting dimmer and he's getting anxious. He really didn't want to die in the woods, that was so not a cool way to die.

The moment he realizes that he's well and truly fucked is also consequently the moment he gives up. Heslides down the side of a tree and leans his head back against it. Cell towers should really be placed in the woods, that would be a huge help to all of society. His eyelids are feeling heavy, his feet hurt and he's about ready to start drinking _sap_ when a familiar growl snaps him back to reality.

"Thank you god, or santa, or whoever," Stiles whispers because honestly, he'd prayed to both. He knows

greeting a giant wolf with a smile is well beyond the realm of crazy, but he's been there for a while.

"I really don't know if you can understand me," he says carefully, standing, "but I have a feeling that you do." he takes a few tentative steps closer because despite the evidence he really doesn't have a death wish. The wolf only stares at him.

"You kind of saved my ass in the woods the other night. Which makes me think you're capable of making rational decisions which is w_eird_, but I mean you're also a five foot tall wolf so it's not that weird," he sighs, "Did you bite my friend?" he asks and wow, he never thought he'd see and animal managed to look confused.

"Okaaay," he drawls, "so that's a no. I just...we kind of thought he was going to die, I prepared a eulogy and everything, he was annoyed by that but," he rolled his eyes, "better to be prepared, y'know?" The wolf glared at him. Actually, literally glared and he took a deep breath. Now that he was close enough to the thing in, thankfully decent daylight, he could really inspect it. It had black fur covering a thick frame, he didn't know why he expected it's eyes to be brown but they weren't. They were blue, well, kind of a blue green, which was...weird.

"I'm kind of banking on the fact that you're not going to eat me," he continued, and the wolf huffed it's agreement. "Alright, awesome, so...I'm lost." he said and threw his arms about, "Can you like, sniff me my way to safety? Cause I'd really appreciate that, as well as not being eaten by a mountain lion." The wolf gave him one last hard look and began trotting away, Stiles quickly following along. He felt like he'd lost just a bit more of his sanity, considering he was talking to the wolf and it...it was definitely understanding him. Maybe it was magic, like...maybe it belonged to a witch. Maybe it was a Dire wolf, god, that would be so cool.

They walked alongside each other and Stiles talked, even if it was just to fill the silence. He talked about Scott and how he had a shit ton of blood on his clothes after that night, how he swore something had bit him but there was no mark. He talked about how he felt crazy talking to a wolf and his speculations on what the hell was going on, and how he wasn't exactly certain he wasn't insane.

"Can I call you fluffy?" he asked at one point and considering the growl he got in return he guessed it was a no, "alright, jeeze, no adorable names. Do you have a name? Is it like a wolf name in wolf speak?" he tried to growl, but it kind of just sounded like he was gurgling. The wolf paused for a moment and huffed before continuing on.

Before long the trees were growing further apart and Stiles could see the road ahead. He sighed in relief and continue walking when he realized the wolf was no longer at his side. He looked back at where he, (yes, Stiles decided it was a dude wolf, it didn't really seem like a girl) was, just concealed by the trees. Stiles jogged back and smiled.

"I'm totally a crazy person but you saved my life again and you definitely understand what I'm saying and that is _so cool_." before he could even think of what he was doing he reached out a hand and ruffled the fur on the side of the wolf's head. He went back to his car quickly after that, not even bothering to look back and kind of marveling at how his hand wasn't bitten off.

xxxxxxxxx

He drove home and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Sunday was thankfully not fraught with danger because really, Stiles could only handle so much death defying in one weekend. Sunday was, however, fraught with video games and pizza rolls. And a bit of homework but that was no fun. Before he could really stop himself he was googling wolves.

Apparently the average weight of a grey wolf in the united states was 110 pounds. Well, his wolf was definitely upwards two hundred so there was no way he was going to find anything useful on the internet. His wolf was magical, that was it, it could understand him and it didn't eat him and that was definitely magic. He sighed and leaned back in his desk chair, unconsciously texting Scott an

'r u dead yet?' he was satisfied when Scott texted back 'kind of' and headed downstairs to make dinner.

As he and his dad ate their salads and chicken Stiles decided against telling his dad about the wolf again. Because his dad would probably get the rangers on it and then it would either be in captivity or dead and man, his wolf was way to cool for each outcome. So it was a bunch of him trying really, really hard not to accidentally mention something, and his dad looking at him like he was an invalid.

Which really, is kind of normal for Sunday night dinners.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Monday came with Scott and whining.

"Dude, seriously, I think I lost my inhaler in the woods." he says, coming up to lean against Stiles' locker after second period.

"Ugh, Scott, can't you just get a new one?" he questions, groaning. He's definitely had enough of the woods for like, the rest of his life.

"No, man, my mom would kill me if the had to buy another one of those things, they're like 80 bucks." Scott has that pleading look on his face and Stiles is totally a sucker for it. He doesn't know how Scott does it but ever since they were kids he had this way of looking like a puppy that was kicked by _you_ until you agreed to whatever he was trying to get you to do. And it always worked.

"Fine," Stiles groans, "But I swear if we get trampled again I'm leaving your ass in the woods." Scott nodded eagerly and Stiles slammed his locker shut and followed Scott to history.

They meet up again after school and Stiles glares at Scott a bit before driving out of the parking lot.

"I saw the wolf again." he says and Scott whips his head over to gape at him,

"What? How?" he gasps and Stiles shrugs, reluctant to admit that he had actually gone searching for it.

"The woods. Again. Near Winnie's house." he stares straight ahead as he says it, "I kind of...got lost. Dude, the thing really understands me. Like, there was r_ecognition_ in his eyes which was actually really weird." he shrugs again, "I mean, he knew what I was saying and he got me out of the woods alive so.."

"You're such an idiot!" Scott cries, "It could've eaten you!"

"Yeah, that's the point!" Stiles argues, "he _didn't_ eat me! I even touched his fur, it was really soft, dude-"

"Oh my god." Scott groans and Stiles laughs,

"You're just jealous because I totally made friends with him and you didn't,"

"I wouldn't really call it jealousy, dude," Scott points out. And that's that with the wolf talk. Scott spends the rest of the ride waxing poetic about the girl he gave a pen to in english class and how he was totally gonna ask her out. Stiles really doubts that but he encourages Scott anyway. Because that's what best friends are for.

They parked in about the same area as they had last time. Scott leads the way and Stiles really doesn't know how to react to that, Scott looks like he's following a trail or something.

"I've been feeling really weird, man." Scott says suddenly and Stiles pauses,

"Weird like how?" he asks "weird like sick?"

"No...just like, I don't know...I heard someone's phone ringing outside the classroom like it was right next to me and I can smell the gum in your pocket." he sniffs, "coconut mint, that gross shit you like."

"It's not gross!" Stiles says defensively, trudging after Scott, "And I don't have any-" he reaches into his pocked and produced a piece, "huh."

"See!" Scott says, looking a bit hysterical, "Maybe it's adrenaline or something. Maybe whatever bit me was infected."

"Yeah, dude," Stiles snorts, "With lycanthrope." he's smirking but Scott looks at him with absolute terror.

"Oh my god what? Is that like AIDS or something?" Stiles narrows his eyes at him,

"No, man, it's...I mean you might want to stay away from silver bullets is all." Scott pauses and then frowns at him.

"Werewolves, Stiles, really?" he sighs and then stops, kneeling down. "It was right here, we were right here." Stiles nods and gets down on all fours, searching through the foliage. He looks up and almost jumps to his feet because oh my god.

There's a dude standing right at the treeline just s_taring at them. _

"Holy shit," he gasps and grabs at Scott's hoodie, pulling him to his feet.

"Uh, Hi?" Stiles calls out and the guy takes a few steps closer, both hands shoved in his leather jacket.

"This is private property," he says while glaring at the two of them like they've mortally offended him somehow.

"Uh...okay, sorry." Stiles stutters out and squints, because there's something really, weirdly familiar about the guy. He was pale and his hair was black and spikey and really, he was kind of attractive. Okay, he was ridiculously attractive, but he was also creeping, which kind of cancelled the attractive out.

"Who are you?" Scott asks and Stiles wants to smack him upside the head because his tone was awfully rude for addressing a creepy dude in the woods that was twice the size of him. And also kind of looked like a serial killer.

"Derek." the guy said and something clicked in Stiles, some past conversation with his dad that had been shoved into the 'not important' slot in his brain.

"Derek Hale?" he was asking before he could really stop himself, the guy, Derek, just gave a short nod before reaching into his pocket and chucking something at Scott.

Scott caught his inhaler and Derek turned on his heel and walked further back into the woods like a creepy lumberjack. He loped through the trees leaving Stiles staring at his back and fighting off a strange sense of deja vu.


End file.
